


They Don't Have Sarcasm on Enoch

by A_Diamond



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2016 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Two Penises), Alien Castiel, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Begging, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Dom Dean, Dom/sub, Double Penetration (technically), Gas-N-Sip, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sub Castiel, Switching, Teasing, Time Skips, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Topping from the Bottom, diphallia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7650640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Diamond/pseuds/A_Diamond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas writhed on the bed, trying to free his hands, but they were trapped beneath him, tangled in a knot of vest and shirt that Dean had tugged off his shoulders, down his arms, and no further. With his back arched by the restriction and his head thrown back against the mattress, he could barely see Dean’s head bent low over him, mouth hot and silky and slowly moving up and down Cas’s cock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Don't Have Sarcasm on Enoch

**Author's Note:**

> SPN Kink Bingo square: Begging. Masterpost [here](http://alxdiamond.tumblr.com/kink).
> 
> My apologies to Douglas Adams.

“Dean.”

Cas writhed on the bed, trying to free his hands, but they were trapped beneath him, tangled in a knot of vest and shirt that Dean had tugged off his shoulders, down his arms, and no further. With his back arched by the restriction and his head thrown back against the mattress, he could barely see Dean’s head bent low over him, mouth hot and silky and slowly moving up and down Cas’s cock.

It was torturous and Dean knew it. He also knew the fingers he slid into Cas weren’t enough, too few and too measured to get him off after Dean had spent an hour fucking him with impressive vigor and stamina. Dean had come, Cas had not, and Dean had spent the time since tormenting him with pleasure just shy of satisfaction.

“Dean,” Cas groaned again, “please.”

———

_One Year Ago_

The new Gas-n-Sip opened three blocks from Dean’s house, in the lot that had been vacant for a few years with the gas pumps from the sixties. Those had been replaced, of course, with newer, safer models, and the little mart had been redone to more modern standards.

It was great.

Dean didn’t have to go all the way into town for milk and eggs anymore, not to mention gas. He loved his baby, but she wasn’t the most fuel efficient, so he liked not having to make a plan for the day just to feel like he wasn’t wasting his trip—and his gas.

Plus, the Gas-n-Sip came with Steve. Dean appreciated Steve on an aesthetic level: a slight hint of stubble that Dean wanted to scrape his teeth over, eyes so blue Dean could go swimming in them, a broad and slightly hapless smile, and dark hair that looked like Dean had already gotten his hands on it as Steve went down on him.

He also liked Steve as a person, it turned out. A sweet, genuine, and slightly odd person. Dean would smile at Steve as he set his purchases on the counter, and Steve would smile back as he counted out Dean’s change, then his face would get very serious as he told Dean, “Have a particularly pleasant day.”

“You too, Steve,” Dean would say, and Steve’s face would crinkle and scrunch at the same time in a way that really ought to have detracted from his hotness, but never quite managed to.

———

Cas was liable to combust at any moment, but Dean still wouldn’t give him what he needed to come. He pulled back instead, leaving his fingers inside Cas but not moving them, taking his perfect mouth away, and it left Cas gasping and pleading.

“Dean. Dean, please, I need—” He cut off, voice cracking into a moan, as Dean started rolling his fingertips over the most sensitive spot inside him. He felt feverish, overheated and incapable of gathering his thoughts even after Dean stilled again.

“I know what you need,” Dean said, his voice low and rough from working Cas over. “I can get you off like this, if that’s what you really want. But I was thinking I’d let you fuck me.”

“Yes.” Cas’s hips twitched without his command, wringing another noise from him as the movement drove Dean’s fingers deeper. Precome dribbled from his erection down his thighs.

He was rarely permitted to penetrate Dean. It took a good deal of preparation, and Dean wasn’t often in the mood for it. Cas had no complaints on that score, though. He loved being filled with Dean, loved having Dean's mouth and hands on him.

Still, when it happened, it was glorious.

“Yes,” he said again, but Dean nipped his thigh reproachfully even as his hand—his other hand, the one that wasn’t driving Cas to madness through inaction—reached for the lube discarded earlier on the bedside table.

“Is that how we ask for things we want?” Dean chided him. There was an edge of hardness behind his teasing tone that Cas was helpless against.

“Please. Please, Dean, let me join with you, let me inside you, let me feel you, let me— _Dean!_ ”

Dean’s touch was gone, leaving Cas so empty he feared he might break from it. But oh, breaking was worth the sight Dean climbing up to straddle his chest, using the same slippery fingers that had just been inside Cas to open himself. He was hard again, thick and red and dripping with how long he’d been teasing Cas.

Cas wanted to taste it. He wanted to suck the head of Dean’s dick into his mouth and run his tongue along the underside, flick it into the slit until Dean spilled into him again. But Dean wouldn’t allow that, so as Cas watched Dean make himself slicker and looser, he put his mouth to Dean’s other favorite use.

“Please, Dean. Please, let me, please, Dean, please, please, please...”

———

_Six Months Ago_

“Tell me something about yourself, Steve,” Dean said, leaning conspiratorially across the counter towards him.

Steve considered the instruction with the same deliberate concentration he applied to the tasks he deemed most important, such as cleaning out the slushie machines and making small talk. Then he nodded, also leaning forward so that his face was only inches from Dean’s.

“My name,” he said, “is not Steve.”

Dean pulled back, partly in surprise and partly so he could double-check the little red nametag on apparently-not-Steve’s vest, because he was absolutely sure it had said ‘Steve’ for the past six months. It still said ‘Steve.’

“Nora, my boss, worried my real name would confuse customers and detract from their experience here at the Gas-n-Sip. We had this spare name tag from another franchise, so she decided I should go by Steve here.”

“Huh. What’s your real name?”

“Castiel.” Castiel—not Steve—looked apologetic as he answered, and Dean realized in that moment that even more than he liked to see Castiel happy, he hated seeing him sad.

“Well, screw the Steve thing. I’m calling you Castiel. If you don’t mind,” he added.

It turned out that Castiel didn’t mind, nor did he mind when Castiel turned into Cas after Dean noticed that other customers were only wished a “pleasant day,” not a particularly pleasant one.

———

When Dean had four fingers pumping into his own hole, Cas was reduced to helpless, frustrated begging as he strained in vain for friction. Dean’s thighs were too far up Cas’s torso to offer any relief, so the small, jerky movement of his hips was only humping thin air.

“Please,” was all he could say, except for “Dean,” so he strung them together in a mindless, desperate chant: “Please, Dean. Dean, please. Please please please Dean _Dean_ please!”

When Dean reached back with his other hand, pushing a fifth finger into himself, Cas’s words faltered into whimpers. At the sixth, even those died off into breathless silence.

After what could have been seconds or minutes or hours—Cas could hold his breath a _very_ long time, particularly when he forgot he was supposed to be breathing—Dean slipped his hands free and leaned forward, hovering over Cas’s face, just out of reach for a kiss.

“Now, the way I see it, we have two options.” Dean’s voice was low and thick, drenched with the strength of his arousal but remarkably steady nonetheless. “I’m good either way, but I’m also fine with taking care of myself and not letting you come, much less get inside me. So whatever you pick, you’ll have to convince me.”

Dean hadn’t asked a question or offered the choices yet, but he seemed to be waiting for a response. When Cas couldn’t give him one, Dean chuckled darkly and bent over further, bypassing Cas’s mouth to put his lips directly to Cas’s ear.

“Not good, Cas. You’re gonna have to find your words again if you want something.”

“Dean,” Cas groaned with a shaky inhalation.

“That’s a start. Now, here’s what we can do. I can leave you like this, all tangled up at my mercy, and ride you. I’ll make it good for you, you know I will, but you won’t be able to touch me. You’ll just need to lie there and take it.”

Cas shivered. Of course it would be good, it always was with Dean, but he’d already spent so long restricted, unable to act for his own pleasure or Dean’s.

“Please.” He had to strain to get the word out, but Dean just hummed another throaty laugh and shushed him.

“I’m not done yet, beautiful. The other option is that I let you up. I’ll lie back—or bend over, if you’d rather—and you can fuck me just as hard as you want.”

Cas’s hips bucked of their own accord again.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean breathed in his ear. “I know you want it hard. But I also know that either way we do it, you’re gonna come before I do. You’re all worked up, and I’ve already had one. You won’t be able to help it.

“I’m still gonna want mine, of course. If I’m riding you, I’ll let you get me off any way you want. But if you’re fucking me...” He ground his ass against Cas’s chest, slicking him with excess lube. “If you’re fucking me, you damn well better keep going until I’m done.”

———

_Three Months Ago_

“Dean.”

“Cas.”

Cas ignored his usual routine—and Dean’s desired purchases—to gaze steadily into Dean’s eyes. “Are you pursuing sexual intercourse with me?”

Dean dropped the plastic container of cherry pie and didn’t even mourn it in his shock. Because he didn’t think he was. Interested, definitely, but not pursuing. He’d thrown out a few lines after Steve had become Castiel had become Cas, and not gotten so much as a nibble back. He’d dropped it quickly, not wanting to ruin a good friendship.

So of course Cas just came out and called him on it months later, in the most Cas way possible. His blunt earnestness ranked high on Dean’s list of qualities he liked best about Cas. He’d spent a lot of time that he felt pretty guilty about imagining just how Cas’s eagerness to please would translate to the bedroom.

“That’s, uh.” Dean’s throat clicked dryly and he swallowed. “What?”

“Nora—you remember, my boss—observed us interacting on Wednesday and suggested that you desire to put your ‘twinkie’ in my ‘ho ho.’” Dean flinched with each air quote. “She was quite adamant.”

So much for not creeping on Cas.

“Look, man, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I can stop coming around if—”

“Dean, please let me finish,” Cas interrupted, and he couldn’t know how many times that phrase showed up, though always much more desperate and breathless, in Dean’s fantasies.

Cas went on, “I apologize for my ignorance of your courting rituals, I didn’t intend to ‘lead you on.’ I have desired to engage with your genitals for some time now, but I didn’t want to risk upsetting you. I value our friendship greatly.”

“Seriously?” Warmth filled Dean: his face, his chest, his groin. No amount of terrible euphemisms would disinterest his dick in the fact that Cas was into it. “I promise, I’m not upset. It’s great, actually. I’m totally good with, uh, engaging genitals.”

Instead of relieved it excited, Cas looked pained. “There’s something you need to know about my genitals—about me—before you make that decision.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Dean was prepared for any number of answers. Cas could feel weird about being cut or uncut. Maybe he had an STD or a micropenis or a monster cock. Maybe he was trans and didn’t have a penis. Dean was ready for and perfectly willing to proceed with any of those responses.

He was not, even a little, expecting Cas to say, “I’m an alien, Dean. Also, I have two penises.”

———

Waiting for Cas to answer, Dean reached back to stroke lube over his cocks, one after the other. He’d focused most of his recent efforts on the right one, not that the left was any less hard or sensitive for it. The blood flow and nerves between them meant they always got erect together.

Unfortunately, it was also in the nature of his species to require simultaneous stimulation to both phalluses to achieve climax. Dean knew this, and frequently used his knowledge to torment Cas by directing all of his attention to one or the other, but never both at the same time. Hence why Cas’s dicks were so dark with blood they looked bruised, swollen from hours of Dean’s teasing.

“So,” Dean prompted as he squeezed lightly just beneath the head of Cas’s left cock with two fingers, “what’ll it be?”

“Dean!” Cas arched into the pressure that was just shy of pain. He forced the words out. Human words, Dean’s words, the ones Dean liked to hear growling out if his throat: “I want to–to fuck you.” His only reward was Dean tutting and taking his hand away, still looking down at Cas expectantly.

He wanted Cas to beg.

“Dean, please. Let me up, let me fuck you. I _need_ to fuck you. I’ll keep going, I promise, I’ll fill you and keep you full. I won’t stop rutting into you until you’re done, until you tell me to. I’ll fuck you to the end of time, through the collapse of planets, through the birth of stars, through the supernova of a million suns. Just let me, oh, Dean, _let me_.”

Dean was off him in an instant, groaning “Fuck,” as he helped Cas roll over and freed his arms from the twisted shirt and vest holding them hostage. “You have the weirdest goddamn dirty talk, spaceman,” he said, turning him back over to kiss him fiercely. “But fuck me if it isn’t romantic.”

Dean threw himself back onto the bed, legs splayed invitingly, but Cas hesitated. He had mostly learned his way around English idioms over the past year, especially through conversation with Dean, but he still sometimes missed things. It was best to be sure.

“It is romantic,” he agreed slowly, “but I would still like to fuck you, please.”

Dean sat up, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him down. He caught himself before falling, braced on hands and knees between Dean’s legs as Dean smirked up at him. “You damn well better. Promises were made.”

Pushing up to sit back on his heels, Cas reached towards Dean’s hole. It had been long enough since Dean had stopped stretching himself that Cas wanted to make sure he was still ready. Each of his penises was as large as an average Earth male’s, and Dean’s anatomy was not made to take them both easily.

But Dean snapped, “Cas,” and he stopped short. “I’m good. Now you’ve got five seconds to get your dicks in me or I’m going to tie you to the bed and make you watch me get myself off without you.”

Then he started barking out a count, and Cas knew from experience he’d follow through on his threat.

Cas was in place by two, one hand holding the bases of his dicks together while the other rested on Dean’s inner thigh, spreading him open. Dean’s other leg crooked over his shoulder, pulling him close. The heads of his cocks pressed against Dean, not yet pushing in but still able to feel the slick, velvety heat of him rubbing on sensitive flesh.

At three they popped past the ring of muscle, slipping inside Dean, and Cas had to hold back a stutter of his hips as they tried to thrust in all at once—and probably climaxing in the process. Dean had been right, of course; he wasn’t going to last very long anyway.

Dean’s breath caught on four, hitching and giving way to a moan when Cas dragged over his prostate, slow and steady, but gathered himself again with a swiftness and discipline that Cas admired.

Five came on hard and strong, just as Cas sunk the last of the way into him. Dean was warm and wet and tight, squeezing Cas’s dicks against each other deliciously. Then almost painfully as Dean deliberately clenched around him, impatient with the moment Cas had taken to try and soothe his desperation. He wanted to stave off his orgasm a little longer and make this as enjoyable for Dean as Dean always made it for him.

“Fuck me,” Dean growled. Behind the forceful tone of command he always used when ordering Cas around in bed, Cas could hear a thin tremor of need that he could not allow. Dean should never want for anything, as long as it was within Cas’s power to give.

And so he fucked Dean, not that it was a great difficulty or sacrifice on his part. His cocks throbbed and his balls burned with the need for release, a goal finally attainable now that he was buried deep in Dean, both swollen dicks swallowed by Dean’s heat. His steadily rolling hips lost their rhythm in a matter of seconds, collapsing into a frenzy of jerking movements as he chased the pleasure of an orgasm long overdue.

He was close. The skin around his sack tightened as it drew up. His ass clenched in preparation, still slick and sticky with lube and come but so, so empty without Dean. It built from the core of him, inevitable and massive, and he dropped his head and let his eyes flutter shut as it approached.

Then Dean snagged a fist into his hair and yanked, pulling Cas back from the brink and forcing him to meet Dean’s wide, lust-darkened eyes. “Beg for it.”

Cas whined, a low sound from deep in his chest. Dean’s hand tugged at his hair as he continued to rut helplessly, but even that sharp pain wouldn’t hold it off for long.

“Please, Dean, please, I need, Dean, please, please, let me.” Every choked word felt like it had to be dragged from his throbbing balls, pulled up through his chest and forced out his breathless throat. They punctuated his stuttering thrusts, an endless litany that grew faster and hoarser and less defined as Dean drew the moment endlessly on. “De–Dean can’t please let please _please_.”

Humans could fill their voices and their faces and their eyes with infinite emotion, expressing themselves with so much more than just words. It turned out that Cas’s species could, too; they just didn’t. Cas had started to pick up on the practice during his time on Earth, much more during his time with Dean, but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to match the outpouring of feeling—approval and pride and heat and want and love—shining from Dean as he gentled his hand in Cas’s hair and said, “Go on.”

Cas rocked into Dean and came, shuddering through an explosive orgasm that left his dicks twitching against each other inside Dean, lubricated by a rather significant amount of his own come. He let it wash over him, blanking his mind and filling his whole being with a contented glow, but just briefly. Remembering his oaths to Dean, he pulled himself back into himself and resumed fucking into Dean.

Even with his dicks softening, the girth of them together kept Dean groaning and cursing in encouragement: “Fuck yes, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop. Supernovas, Cas, fucking supernovas.”

He couldn’t thrust fast or deep anymore, not with his increasing flaccidness and oversensitivity, but he rammed himself hard against Dean with each shallow back and forth of his hips. The rough pull of his flesh over Dean’s prostate had Dean reaching down to touch himself in no time at all. Cas dropped his gaze down from Dean’s eyes to his hand, sliding slick over his cock just above where Cas disappeared into him, and found words slipping out without conscious thought.

“Yes, Dean. Let me see you, please, show me. I’ve seen trinary stars and gold dust nebulae and endless icefalls and nothing, nothing in the galaxy is as breathtaking as you are. I want to give you this every moment of every day until the end of the universe itself, I—Dean!”

Close now, Dean had started to spasm and clench around him, hand moving faster, faster to bring himself off. “Cas, you—”

Whatever Cas was got lost in a cry as Dean tensed and shot a strand of pearly white come over his chest. Cas followed the trail with his eyes then continued, up Dean’s soft stomach and between peaked nipples, past collarbone and throat and unsteadily working Adam’s apple, lingering on the mouth that, when he was very good or very lucky, would take the sensitive heads of his cocks at once and suckle them to a bone-meltingly gentle climax.

The endpoint of Cas’s visual journey, Dean’s eyes rolled up under his lowered, fluttering eyelids. The forests of Enoch Three, eternally caught in dappled mid-afternoon sunlight, were nothing to the colors in Dean’s irises. He wanted to tell Dean this, but lost the words to the shuddering squeeze of Dean around him.

Other than a final moan of completion from Dean as he wrung the last spurts of come onto his hand and stomach, the room was quiet. For a moment they were still, then Dean slipped his leg from Cas’s shoulder and winced slightly.

“All right, spaceman, enough probing,” he said, and his tone was fond despite the mocking words. He was obviously tender as Cas pulled out; Cas himself was relieved to have his sore, overworked cocks in the open instead of held tight and forced close. “Can you stay tonight?”

Falling to the mattress beside Dean, Cas nodded an affirmative. “Nora is training a new clerk tomorrow morning, so I don’t work until the evening.”

———

_One Day Later_

“Dean.”

Dean hadn’t been expecting Cas to turn up at his apartment at ass o’clock in the morning after finishing the night shift at the Gas-n-Sip, but he wasn’t going to complain about getting more boyfriend time.

He did, however, feel justified complaining when, after he dragged Cas inside and pressed him up against the door, Cas stopped his hands before they could slide under Cas’s jeans for a proper grope.

Cas didn’t give him time to voice his protest. “The new clerk Nora hired isn’t from Earth.”

“Huh.” Dean finally gave up on trying to cop a feel and really looked at Cas’s face. His expression was serious, which told Dean exactly nothing. Cas’s expression was always serious. So he asked, “And this is... Good? Bad?”

“Bad,” Cas said gravely. “He’s from the Leviath cluster. It’s very likely that he’s been sent to evaluate the planet for conversion to livestock.”

“Well, shit.” Dean thought a moment. “Is that something we need to deal with in the next twenty-four hours?”

“No, but—”

“Then come here, blow me, and let’s get some sleep. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

And they did.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a quick little porn fic about alien Cas with two dicks. There ended up being much less focus on that, and much more actual backstory. But these two (and their three penises) will undoubtedly feature in future stories to come.


End file.
